Farewell, Henri
by MegamiTenchi
Summary: A small one-shot to commemorate the closure of Henri Bendel and imagine how our favorite Upper East Siders would have felt on their final visit to the iconic flagship store at 712 5th Avenue.


Farewell, Henri

"Henry, come along." Blair held out her hand, expectantly wiggling her fingers in the five year old's direction. The dapper boy had paused, distracted by the shining watches in the Piaget window but quickly hurried to catch up to his mother. The pair continued down 5th Ave., Dorota alongside them pushing Diana's stroller, and a glowing and visibly pregnant Serena. The trio of women were quiet, despite the hustle of shoppers on the sidewalk or the relatively pleasant weather for December in New York City. They knew this outing held more sadness than joy, an audit on their younger days and the undoubtable end of an era.

This was their last time shopping at 712 5th Avenue: Henri Bendel.

The dazzle and bright hues of Christmas were dimmer knowing such an icon would soon be snuffed out.

Serena linked her arm with Blair's when they reached the doors, the blonde giving the brunette a sweet smile.

The number of people making their final visit meant the girls could not stand inside the entrance for very long in admiration of the towering tree made of every type of Bendel box.

Blair shifted towards the elevator. "Let's start at the top?"

They didn't have to go very far. Just to the second floor. Blair realized she couldn't remember when the Fekkai salon vacated the fourth floor. During their senior year at Constance is when the store killed carrying clothing. Even reduced down to two floors, the second floor was more empty than full. They paused for a bittersweet photo with the Lalique glass windows behind them, the ones that Jackie O herself saw were designated a historic landmark. If they held the phone high enough, the top of the tree of brown and white striped boxes peeked up behind them.

Dorota took the children back to the elevator as Serena and Blair strolled slowly down the long spiral staircase back to the first floor.

Serena paused to gaze up toward the third and fourth floors. "When I came back…"

Blair followed her friend's gaze, urging her on with a, "Hmm?"

"Eric and I ran into Jenny. I told her the dress she was trying on for Kiss on the Lips would look better in black." She then made a rueful smile, "Dan was hiding behind a clothing rack."

Blair shook her head, "Of course he was."

Serena jostled her friend's arm in reply as they continued passed a wall covered with Izak's illustration of New York's city skyline, the buildings made of boxes and bows and "Henri Bendel" over again and again. Back on the first floor, they appropriately raided each area. Travel accessories, from luggage down to jewelry cases and cosmetic bags. Wallets, purses, backpacks.

"What about this one?" Serena held up a black Jetsetter backpack trimmed in white. Blair looked at it thoughtful, but didn't say anything. After all, it was a backpack. Serena, inherently knowing this added, "I thought Eric's fiancé might like it; it's his type of tasteful but exuberant style."

"Well in that case…" Blair passed it off to the employee who was taking their items to the ever growing pile at the register.

Next they were at the charm table and Blair gathered baby Diana up in her arms. Her daughter wasn't going to be a Bendel Girl. Not the way Blair or her mother had been. If the brand ever came back, it wouldn't be _this_. And Blair realized, just like that, she was _like_ her mother. Eleanor Waldorf knew the Benel's on W 57th street, with its groundbreaking conceptual "street of shops." Blair had only ever known 712 5th Avenue. But what was heartrending is the decent chance that this changing retail landscape meant Diana may never have Bendel's at all.

With her the tiny girl snuggled in one arm, Blair held up the myriad of charms on offer for her daughter's consideration, building a bracelet the child wouldn't be able to wear until years later yet making a memory to last a lifetime.

Especially since she noticed Dorota with camera in hand.

Serena had tasked Henry with assisting Ryan, their designated employee, in carrying hatboxes to the register. Another perfect picture.

With Diana back in her stroller, Blair and Serena browsed through the jewelry offerings, everything gold and silver and sparkling. Serena considered a pair of Asscher cut earrings, "So why hasn't Chuck bought Bendel's for you, exactly?"

"It's cute you think he hasn't tried. He took Les out on the town, tried to persuade the esteemed Mr. Wexner to sell it—to anyone, rather than shut it down. But as a businessman, he wanted to keep the trademarks while opening up funds to poor into Victoria Secret. As a son, well," Blair gushed, insincerely, "It was his mother's favorite brand."

"Really?"

Blair rolled her eyes. "I hope she haunts him for this."

Serena chuckled, just as an old song from high school began playing. Serena was at the delightful stage of pregnancy where her hormones did could swing wildly, and the radiant blonde instantly went from chuckling to crying. Blair side hugged her best friend, secretly letting a tear or two find its way into Serena's mane of golden locks. Neither of them wanted to live in a world without this iconic place.

But there really were things money couldn't buy.

The bittersweetness returned as the pair bought a matching set of Bendel brown and white stripe crystal jewelry, which had all the attention to detail and links calling back to the brand's 123 year long legacy the company was known for.

It took some time for Ryan and his coworker to process and wrap everything Mrs. Bass and Mrs. Humphrey had purchased and load it into the waiting limo. Even with the presence of Diana and Henry to help distract from the intense knowledge that this was the end, as the car pulled into traffic, Blair couldn't stop herself from looking back, just one more time, at the storefront that had watched over her all these years.

#

On New Year's Eve, with the children asleep, Mr. and Mrs. Bass enjoyed keeping to themselves to ring in 2019. After laying out a beautiful spread of snacks on silver trays, champagne kept cool in its bucket, and a pair of crystal flutes, Dorota left to celebrate with her own family. Well before midnight, Chuck had wooed Blair out of her silk chemise, the dark pair happily laid out before a roaring fire, the clock on the mantle ticking towards a new year.

Running her fingers across her husband's chest, Blair absent-mindedly mumbled how Bendel's would be gone in a few weeks. Chuck kissed the top of her head before scooting her off of him. Blair was indignant in response as he moved away from her to find his discarded suit coat.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he began to walk back to her.

"I couldn't save Bendel's," He was earnest, his eyes meeting her gaze.

She held up her hand, taking his as he knelt back down before the fire with her.

He held an unremarkable white letter envelope in his other hand, "But… There was one question Wexner and the board of L Brands hadn't found an immediate answer to."

Handing her the envelope, Chuck watched as Blair pulled the thick pages of the contract out and spent a few moments scanning over the words, processing what exactly was going on.

Somehow, she managed the words, "The building…"

"Technically not the _whole_ building, but the parts that were Bendel's. L Brands was on the line for the price of the lease for a couple more years more years, to the tune of $20 million."

Her lower lip trembled, her eyes watering as she looked back up at her wonderful husband.

He cupped her check, swiping away an errant tear. He smiled as he looked at the love of his life. "Isn't it time Waldorf Designs had its own space?"

Happy 2019, Darlings. I don't think I need to tell you the final closing of the last of the Bendel stores yesterday was hard for me. I was happy (as happy as one could be) to try an imagine what it would have been like for Blair and Serena. Despite such a sad note to kick off the first month of a new year, I hope this year brings us all many wonderful experiences. /p


End file.
